


With a Woman on Her Back

by natascha_ronin



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2019-03-09 19:04:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13487850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natascha_ronin/pseuds/natascha_ronin
Summary: The preview Season Sex--I mean--season six.





	With a Woman on Her Back

“I love you.”

Then he smiles, and he’s wrapping himself around her, and they’re kissing. She’s not sure who really kisses who first, but she’s sure it’s the heady sensation that carries them, carries her, as she’s lifted into his arms. This time, there’s nowhere to be, nobody to talk to, no bad guy to take down (yet), so they take their time, enjoying each other. There’s no sign of stopping, feeling the chill of the air on her face and the warmth of his mouth on her lips, and she feels so decadent just making out with her true love on the sidewalk where anyone can see them. 

As if he can hear where her thoughts are going, Killian leans back and gently lowers her to the ground. 

“How about skipping lunch in favor of a quiet meal at home?” He quirks an eyebrow. 

Emma blinks, surprised at his train of thought. “But my parents are –“ 

“I’m certain your parents can spare you for an afternoon. I’ll text your mother.”

She opens her mouth a few times before stuttering, “N-no, I’ll text her and let her know we’re going home to rest.” She pulls out her phone and keys, fingers flying across the screen. 

“Great,” Killian smiles and takes her hand. “Perhaps after we rest we can rest.” He winks.

Emma blushes and lifts her hand to make the trip easy, but Killian reaches around her to pull her wrist back down with his hook. 

“Perhaps we should take your car, love,” he gestures to the bug parked behind him at the curb. “In case we need it later.”

They walk over to the bug, parting to get in on either side. Killian slides into the passenger seat as Emma sits down. She was just in this car for six hours and it smells like Regina’s perfume and thirteen-year-old boy. She’ll have to clean it out later.

“Oh, wait – what about Henry?” 

“He’s with Regina.” Killian smiles at her and reaches to buckle his seatbelt. “Don’t worry love, we won’t be missed. Let’s go.”

The drive is quick, just a few streets over and she’s pulling the car over in front of the house. She’s apprehensive as Killian opens the gate to lead her up the walk, looking up at the blue siding. The topiaries on the porch steps need watering, and she makes a mental note to tend to the gardening tomorrow. 

“I don’t think I got a proper tour last time we were here.” He’s reassuring her with his nonchalance and his easy smile. It’s something she knows by now that he does as much for himself as he does for her. It’s his way of checking in and letting her know he’s aware.

“Right,” Emma laughs nervously as they walk inside. So many memories flood her at once: the basement, the spyglass he used to look out at the ocean, the place he stood when Zelena stabbed him, the chair he sat in as the dark one and waited for her, the couch she laid on for hours after she killed him – clutching his ring and letting tears run down her face, the glass baking dish she used to bake cobbler for Robin’s wake. The coat she wore to the funeral is slung over the chair in the living room. 

“How about a drink, aye?” Killian turns around and, for a second, he looks just as stricken as she does.

She nods. “Sounds good.” 

She pours each of them a healthy glass, drinking as she walks over to the couch and sets the bottle on the coffee table. The wineglass is half empty by the time she lowers it and takes a deep breath. She spins around and looks at him, standing at the arm of the chair. He takes a deep breath, distress written all over his face. 

“Maybe we should talk.” He looks down at the chair and moves to pick up her coat. 

_But that won’t do_ , she thinks. It seems they’ve done nothing but talk since she found him in dangling from a chain like a piece of meat for rabid dogs in the underworld. She needs him. She sets the wineglass down next to the open bottle. She needs to feel him.

In a split second, she’s on him. He barely has time to move his hook and hand out of the way before Emma grabs him by the lapel of his jacket and, reminiscent of their first kiss, she pulls him in. Her heart beats so loudly in her chest she thinks he must hear it, the only other sound his sharp gasps and pulling lips. 

She pulls the wineglass out of his hand and it clinks as she clumsily places it on the littered table, her lips barely leave his and he’s leaning down to hold her kiss, pushing her back towards the couch as they stumble over it and she’s against the cushions. She slides down, pulling him by his jacket collar, and he’s reaching over to grasp his hook. 

“So what was that about a woman on her back?” She leans up to tease his bottom lip with hers. 

Killian hums and chuckles. “You won.” He licks her lips with a quick flick of his tongue and peppers kisses down her cheek. “I’m at your mercy,” he whispers into her ear.

She hears metal clang to the floor and he’s straddling her, legs pressing down against her, lips pressed and caressing her own, tongue in her mouth, hot breath and scruff tickling her skin. She can feel his charms against her, hitting her neck, the promise of more against her thigh.

She’s just about to suggest that they move this upstairs when she hears it, the deep rumble above and the rattle of glass on the table to her right. It’s Killian who breaks the spell first – jerking his head up to look over. She opens her eyes as he eases up and she can see the table shaking and the source of the clinking sound. 

“Damn,” Killian whispers as he looks back down at her, his face stormy. 

“Yeah.” Emma nods as the rumbling gets louder overhead, one of the wineglasses tumbling over and spilling onto the floor. 

“What the bloody hell?” He reaches out and rights the glass before it can roll off the table and break.

They’re on their feet in seconds, and Emma looks over apologetically at Killian. 

“Raincheck?” 

He nods sharply. “Aye, love. Let’s go see what fresh hell awaits us now.”


End file.
